


Be Wise and Keep On

by ladyflowdi



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-23
Updated: 2009-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:09:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyflowdi/pseuds/ladyflowdi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ow!” Merlin yelped, and just barely kept himself from shoving Arthur’s chest with his foot. “You could be a little more careful there!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Wise and Keep On

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my LJ-to-AO3 project. I wrote this in 2009.

“Ow!” Merlin yelped, and just barely kept himself from shoving Arthur’s chest with his foot. “You could be a little more careful there!”

“I’m _trying_ ,” Arthur said, because, well, it was his virginity too, at least with another man, and lust had left him worryingly stupid. “You’re tight.”

“Of course I’m tight, I’ve never had anything going _up_ there before. Are you sure you heard correctly?” Merlin asked, and wiggled a little under Arthur’s touch. The two fingers inside him felt… they felt _strange_ , in ways that were not conducive to bringing forth the pleasure Arthur had so assured him. “This can’t be right. Percy is a liar.”

“Sir Perceval to you, thank you,” Arthur said, and twisted his fingers, his brow furrowed with concentration. “He was very kind, and more importantly, _discreet_.”

“I think he was having you for a laugh,” Merlin announced, and gave in to the impulse to push at Arthur’s chest. The hair felt crinkly and weird between his toes. “This is not how I pictured sex, I have to say.”

“Patience,” Arthur said, and nudged Merlin’s foot up onto his shoulder. His tongue was caught between his teeth. “It can’t be this difficult, there’s only so much room in here.”

“Did I mention it hurts? Because it does,” Merlin said, and glowered up at the canopy above him. He could feel the cold edge of Arthur’s ring every time he pushed his fingers inside, and vowed he would never, ever admit that, though it did feel uncomfortably full and burned every time Arthur moved, the secret thrill of having Arthur somewhere so intimate had his blood moving so fast he was trying not to pant. 

“Badly?” Arthur asked, and stopped. For anyone who didn’t know him, they would have missed the slight widening of his eyes, the tiny downward tilt of his mouth. “Does it hurt too much?”

The flush that had steadily worked up Merlin’s body burned into his cheeks, and he turned his head away. Arthur, _damn_ him, laughed, carefully twisted his fingers. “You like it.”

“Arthur.”

“You do,” Arthur said, smiling, and pressed his mouth to Merlin’s knee. “You can admit it.”

“I _don’t_ like it.”

“Really,” Arthur said, and touched something that made Merlin gasp so hard he almost choked, a blazing edge of pleasure twisting through his guts so intense he almost stopped breathing.

“There we are,” Arthur murmured, and relaxed between Merlin’s legs. He pulled his fingers out, slow and careful, and then pushed them back in, touching something, some spot inside that felt so good Merlin grabbed hold of the pillow beneath his head to keep himself from jerking upward. Arthur smirked, lightly thumbed Merlin’s balls. “There we are,” he said again, and pulled at Merlin’s thigh a bit to get him closer. “Feels good?”

“I—” Arthur touched that spot again, stroked it over and over, and Merlin choked out, “Sweet mercy.”

“Still think Percy was having me on?” Arthur asked, flushed to the roots of his blond hair. It was a remarkably good look for him, as was the smile curving his lips, the way the muscles in his shoulders moved as he pushed his fingers forward and touched that magic spot inside that made Merlin moan like a man dying, made him shove down into Arthur’s touch to get _more_ , he needed—

“Please,” he said, and grabbed at Arthur’s forearm, his shoulder. “More, faster, right now.”

“ _I_ will go faster when it pleases me to do so." Arthur hummed with delight at Merlin’s very obvious distress, as if Merlin couldn’t feel how very, very hard Arthur’s cock had become where it pressed like a brand against Merlin’s thigh. “Let’s not forget who’s the servant and who’s the master.”

Merlin glared at him but Arthur just leaned down to kiss him, to _distract_ him, and it worked, especially when he licked at Merlin's lower lip, and kissed down Merlin’s stubble-rough cheek, his throat, his neck. He was so beautiful in the dark, firelight playing shadows over his shoulders, his arms, and his face. Arthur’s fingers moved and suddenly Merlin imagined Arthur between his legs, thighs bunching, arse flexing. Visceral, it went straight to his guts, the thought of Arthur gasping his name, touching him, sweating and straining and _fucking_ him.

He moaned.

Arthur looked up, his hair falling sweat-damp into eyes that looked a little wild. “You like that?” Arthur asked, voice so gruff it sent a thrill through Merlin’s chest. He brushed his lips over Merlin’s calf, his knee, his thigh, then up, up to the very base of his length. “You like me in you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Merlin hissed, and Arthur must have thought that was his cue to push in three fingers, all at once. Animal pleasure flared in him at the thought of Arthur preparing him, opening him for his cock, spreading him wide for what was to come. When Merlin was full, when Arthur had pushed his fingers in as far as they would go, he leaned down and took Merlin into his mouth.

Merlin _yelled_ but all Arthur did was suck, draw his tongue around the aching head of Merlin’s cock, and only once. Arthur let it slip from his lips, licking as he went, and then ducked down to lap at Merlin’s aching balls. He sucked on them, too, so carefully, and too only once.

And then Arthur carefully traced his tongue around the swollen edge of Merlin’s entrance and his own fingers, and Merlin crammed his fist in his mouth and sobbed. That was Arthur, blond head between Merlin’s thighs, licking tentatively and so gently where Merlin was open and grasping and filled. Had Arthur’s big hand not been on his hip and pressing him into the blankets Merlin would have thrown him off with the force of his thrust upwards. His cock, heavy and huge between his legs, pulsed, but when he tried to touch himself Arthur batted his hand away.

“Arthur,” Merlin choked out, toes curling into the blankets and furs.

“Not yet,” Arthur said, glancing up at him through his fringe, flushed and gorgeous and _licking his lips_.

“Please,” Merlin said, eyes clenching shut, and threw his arm over his eyes. “Please!”

“Oh no, my lad,” but oh, oh, Arthur had finally pulled his fingers out, straightened up, grabbed him around the hips and set the fire roaring in Merlin’s belly. “Look at me.”

“Please,” Merlin cried, desperation like knives in his gut, and tried to touch his cock again. Arthur caught at his wrist, pinned it to the side, so Merlin yanked at his own hair with the other, frustration and need like a beast inside him. “ _Arthur_!”

“Please _what_?” Arthur demanded, and pushed one finger back in, just enough for Merlin to feel the stretch. 

The cry that came out of him was embarrassingly loud, but Arthur just did it again, and Merlin thought for sure he was going to rip holes in Arthur’s sheets. “You know what, you… you cur!”

“Oh, a _cur_ am I,” Arthur said, smiling. “Here I am, doing my best to prepare you, what with your being an _innocent_ , and you call me _names_. That just won’t do.” 

And then, to Merlin’s absolute horror, Arthur let him go and rolled over onto his back beside him. He tucked his arms under his head and grinned, smug. “If you feel you can do a better job of it, then by all means,” he said regally, waving a hand with that little flip of his fingers that drove Merlin insane some days, wanting to suck them or bite them or smack them away. 

“You unimaginable ass,” Merlin said, awed by Arthur’s gall. For a moment, one single moment, he considered gathering his tattered dignity around him and storming out of the room, and he might have done if Arthur wasn’t lying there, stroking his cock huge and wet and dark with blood, sweat standing up on his skin and sticking his hair to his temples. Might have done if Arthur didn’t smile at him, everything they never said in the curve of his lips.

“Spoiled rotten, did I mention?” Merlin hissed, and leaned down to suck hard at the tip of Arthur’s cock.

Gratifyingly, Arthur gasped, ragged and sharp and high as a girl, and shoved his hand into Merlin’s hair. “Merlin—” he said, but Merlin just sucked again, and then once more, and Arthur made the sort of deep, moaning sound that went right to Merlin’s heart.

He tasted good, like oil and skin and warmth, and Merlin remembered why he liked this so much, the intimacy of feeling Arthur under his tongue, on the roof of his mouth. “Merlin,” Arthur said again, but Merlin sucked, hard, over and over until Arthur was doing little more than stutter, until it was _he_ who groaned like a man dying.

Oh, but revenge was sweet for the stupid games Arthur loved to play in bed, and Merlin slid his hands under Arthur’s arse. Arthur didn’t need any more encouragement than that, shaking, straining thighs wrapping around Merlin’s shoulders and his fingers tight in Merlin’s hair. “Yes,” he gasped, hips rolling, and Merlin hummed low in his throat just to hear Arthur’s breath go high again. This was good, this was better than good, salt and sun and sweat, hot skin under his tongue. He leaned back to lick around the oh-so sensitive head of Arthur’s cock, the ridge that made Arthur all but levitate, the spot just underneath that made his shoulders curl off the bed. 

When Merlin couldn’t take it anymore, not a moment more, he shuddered up to his knees, grabbed at the little pot of oil from Arthur’s side table, and dipped trembling fingers into it. Arthur dipped his fingers in too and brought them back to Merlin’s entrance, though thankfully not to tease. In and out, cursory and fast, as fast as Merlin’s hand slicking Arthur’s cock, and then he threw his leg over Arthur’s hips, settled into the valley of them and reached back for Arthur’s cock. 

Arthur, bless him, helped, laughing breathlessly when his cock slipped out of their combined fingers, but he grabbed at Merlin’s hip, and Merlin shifted a little, and then he was there, right where they both wanted him. 

He nudged a little, and Merlin moved down a little, and they both groaned. Big, so big, too big to fit, except all Merlin had to do was tilt his hips and there he was, Arthur, pushing into him. He almost choked on the feeling of it, of Arthur sliding into him, so easily it was almost magic, warm and good. He trembled and Arthur whispered, “Hurts?” and Merlin bit his lip and nodded, because it did, it did and it didn’t, strange and wonderful. 

Then he was there, sitting on Arthur’s thighs, his knees tight against Arthur’s ribs. He was there and Arthur was inside him, all the way inside him, and he couldn’t help stroking his fingers down over his own belly, over Arthur’s fingers clamped on his hips. “Oh. _Oh_.”

“Easy,” Arthur said, voice deep and male and strained around the edges, and _damn_ him, utterly satisfied. “You like this?”

“Yes, you utter prat,” and Merlin spread his fingers through Arthur’s chest hair, scraped his nails across little nipples. Inside him, deep inside him he felt Arthur twitch, and moaned as Arthur did. 

“Ready?” Arthur asked, and before Merlin could answer he took hold of Merlin’s hips and slowly, slowly lifted him up, then just as carefully brought him back down so they were touching again, skin to skin. He did it again, and then again, pulling Merlin higher off his cock before bringing him back down, and Merlin threw his head back and keened. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Arthur said, laughing like the unbelievable ass he was, but Merlin couldn’t take him to task over it too much when he decided to help Arthur move, to brace his knees and lift up.

He lifted too far and Arthur’s cock popped free, but he reached down and then Arthur was back in, right where he had to be, right where Merlin wanted him. Except he couldn’t get it right, the right thrust, the right angle no matter how much he shifted, no matter how much Arthur moved, and Arthur said quite suddenly, “Right. That’s it.”

He sat up, wrapped his arms around Merlin’s shoulders, and rolled them over into the blankets. Before Merlin had stopped gasping at the sensation Arthur was pulling Merlin’s thighs over his hips, pulling and moving and _pushing inside him_ , deep inside.

Different from this angle, better, like before when Arthur had put his fingers inside him. Only now, Arthur grabbed hold of Merlin’s legs and pulled him off the pillows, moved him down the bed until he could catch Merlin’s wrists with one big hand and press them into the blankets. He stroked his fingers down Merlin’s cheek, his jaw, his chin. “There we are,” he murmured.

Then it was nothing but the movement of Arthur’s hips, thrusts so slow and sweet that Merlin couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Arthur licked at the sweat running down Merlin’s cheek, shared it with him, salt and love on Arthur’s tongue and secret in the shadows of their mouths. 

And when that wasn’t enough, when that wasn’t nearly enough, Arthur shouldered Merlin’s legs up high and that too felt good, so good. Merlin wanted to touch, needed to touch himself so badly it was desperation, but when he tried Arthur clenched his fingers around his trapped wrists, twisted his hips. “Arthur,” Merlin cried, struggling against Arthur’s grip. “Touch me.”

“Not yet.”

“Arthur!”

“Not yet, Merlin,” Arthur hissed, sweat running down his temples, his neck. “Damn you, not yet.”

They fucked. Twisting and pushing and pulling against each other they fucked, until Merlin lost touch with the rest of the world. All he could see was Arthur, beautiful and panting with pleasure. Merlin wanted to come so badly, could feel it hovering right out of his reach, and needed a touch, a single touch. 

And then, just as it was too much, just as Merlin didn’t think he could take one more moment, Arthur let go of his wrists and dropped his hand into the shadow between their moving bodies, wrapped his fingers around Merlin’s cock and stripped it. Ruthless and fast and pitiless he stroked, bordering on too much and not enough, except maybe it was just perfect because pleasure exploded in Merlin’s body with such force he couldn’t breathe, with such suddenness black spots took over the edges of his vision. 

Arthur’s face twisted into ecstatic agony, stripping him of his beauty and into something primal, as open as Arthur could ever be, and something that screamed into the parts of Merlin that were so helplessly connected to him. “Merlin,” Arthur choked out, and thrust and stilled and stayed, coming and coming and the idea of it, that Arthur would find such pleasure in his body was so wonderful that Merlin lost his grip on the world.

 

When he opened his eyes, Arthur leaned over him, beamed, and said, “You’ve got come in your hair.”

Merlin glared.

“And you _fainted_.”

Merlin glared some more, this time to hide the flush.

“I’ve also apparently struck you deaf and dumb.”

“You wouldn’t let me _come_ ,” Merlin said, _glaring_ , and crossed his arms. It did not have much effect, what with his being horizontal and covered in come. “You’re a cur.”

Arthur grinned at him cheekily, walked his fingers up Merlin’s tenderly bruised hip. “So you’ve said.”

“Don’t think you can win me over with that smile, either. It has no effect on me.”

“I imagine,” Arthur said, and stroked his fingertips ever-so-lightly down Merlin’s thigh.

“I feel you may be worse than a cur, even. A scoundrel is much more apt. Prince Arthur the Scoundrel.”

Arthur, as per a scoundrel, thumbed Merlin’s entrance, hot and wet and sore. Slipped his fingers back in. “A scoundrel, hmm?” he asked, and leaned down to helpfully lick the come from Merlin’s belly.

Well. 

Merlin stroked his fingers through Arthur’s damp hair.

He always did like scoundrels.


End file.
